


my broken heart, did you hear the mountain fall?

by GoddessOfTheVoid



Series: short multifandom ficlets [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Accidents, Angst and Tragedy, Character Study, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Tragedy, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24669709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddessOfTheVoid/pseuds/GoddessOfTheVoid
Summary: Utterly heartbroken, Jaskier makes his way down the mountain, heedless of the treacherous terrain, unaware of the dangers before him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: short multifandom ficlets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629358
Comments: 12
Kudos: 142





	my broken heart, did you hear the mountain fall?

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a short and angsty ficlet I wrote while taking a break from my other, longer wips.
> 
> as always English is not my first language so please be kind.

How foolish.

What a fool he was, indeed.

The pinnacle of naiveté.

How could he have been so stupid?

How could he have believed he was worth something more? How could he have thought Geralt cared?

Pathetic.

Two decades.

Two fucking decades of traveling together, more than half of his life spent with this man. And yet he was as worthless as the dirt sticking to the Witcher’s shoes.

Pathetic.

It was so utterly heartbreaking. Probably the first real heartbreak he’d experienced in his life. For all his wallowing in the past about lost loves, none of them were quite that serious. None of them were more than a distraction. A way to scratch an itch and ignore what he really craved.

The hopeless fantasy he had curated for such a long time.

Pathetic indeed.

Hoping for something he knew would never become his. Fantasizing about soft touches and a love he could never claim.

And now those fantasies had been crushed completely. Ripped out and trampled upon so very cruelly, those harsh words echoing through his mind in a never-ending mockery.

He was not welcome anymore. His presence a burden rather than a blessing. Perhaps it had always been one, perhaps he just never noticed. Or chose to ignore it.

It did not matter.

What mattered was that he was unwanted. And being unwanted meant, he had to leave.

Not even bothering to go back for his belongings he turned around and started his descend. The quicker he got this over with, the quicker he could head into a village or a town. To get drunk and grieve for what he had lost.

Trying to make his way down the mountain as quickly as he could, wanting to avoid seeing anyone else. There was no desire in him to meet them or be forced to talk to any of them. Not after the complete humiliation, he received at Geralt’s hands. They probably all heard his words, being as loud as he was, and knew how much of a curse he was.

Cursed be the day he agreed to this. Cursed be the day he climbed this mountain.

Nothing good had happened since they met the old man and accepted his contract.

If only he could turn back time. If only he could go back even further, before that cursed day he unleashed the jinn upon the world. If only he could do this, then he wouldn’t be scrambling to keep the splintered pieces of himself so desperately together.

Not that it helped much. Not when his heart had shattered into millions of tiny pieces. Scattered across this very mountain. A part of him would probably stay here for eternity, forever lost amidst the dirt he was walking on.

For all the magic in the world, one that could turn back time did not exist.

Unfortunately.

Leaving him stuck in this so very cruel reality.

Stumbling across the rocky surface, he slipped more than once, tearing his fancy clothes and the skin of his palms. Not that he cared. Not that it mattered. 

Nothing mattered.

Except for the fact that he needed to get away. Far away from this cursed place. As far away as he could get. 

There would be time to think later, to grieve and accept. To adapt to a new future he could not yet imagine. A future where he would be alone.

For now, there was only the stabbing pain in his chest.

He could still hear their moans ringing in his ears, nausea pooling in his stomach as he thought about it. Bitter jealously as he would have given everything to be in her place.

But then why would anyone choose a pathetic human bard when they could have a woman as powerful and beautiful as her.

Such a pity this realization did not stop him from craving to be the one to ride the Witcher’s cock.

He was in love. Utterly and hopelessly, for more than two decades.

Cursed be the poetry he read as a child. Cursed be the poetry that kept romanticizing one-sided love. There was nothing beautiful about it. Only a pain so deep he was unsure how to survive it.

In another reality, they would be on their way to the sea, Geralt and him. In another reality he would be the one to kiss him, to fuck him. In another reality he would be happy to receive his affection. Not like her.

In another reality, he would have been happy. 

In another reality, Geralt would have listened to his words, to his confession. In another reality he would have accepted his feelings, would have shared them, too. In another reality he would wake up to soft kisses and strong arms holding him close, protecting him from all evil.

In this true reality, he was nothing but the biggest curse laid upon Geralt.

He was sobbing pathetically as he reached the creaking boards of rotten wood spanning across the edge of the mountain.

They terrified him. Now even more than they did during his ascend. But there was no other way for him to get down. It was either this or turn back around to face more humiliation from the others.

Turning back was out of the question.

It was his past, a past he needed to let go, no matter how much it pained him.

He needed to move forward. It was his only choice.

Carefully he stepped onto the wood, wincing as he felt it creak beneath his weight.

He had done this once, he could do this again.

Step by step he inched forward, holding onto the chain for dear life. Dread pooling inside him as the creaking only intensified.

Cursed be the day he agreed to all of this, indeed.

For it took only one wrong step for his foot to slip and the wood to splinter beneath his feet.

Screaming in fear he held onto the chain, the only thing standing between him and the deadly fall into the darkness below.

Tears clouded his eyes as he struggled desperately to hold on. Metal digging painfully into his slippery palms, gliding slowly over his burning skin in a mocking motion.

He wanted to scream. From pain and anger. For help to come and save him.

Useless. 

There was no one here. 

No one to hear him. No one to help him. No one to care.

It was doubtful anyone had noticed his absence.

Not when there were more important things.

Not when he’d been nothing but a nuisance the entire trip.

It was time to face the bitter reality.

He would die alone, his body lost for eternity, decaying in the dark abyss that was waiting for him.

Disappearing into nothingness, his name and existence vanishing as there would be no one left to remember him.  


How utterly sad.

He tried one last time to strengthen his grip and climb back up into safety. Without avail.

There was no safety.

The chain loosened further from the stone, making him fall even deeper. There was no plank he could reach, only slippery metal and bloody palms. And the knowledge that he could not hold on for much longer.

What did he even expect of a body too weak? A middle-aged man with lack of proper muscles trying to meddle in the mess of nonhumans. He should have stayed behind, in the safety of a village. But no, he had to agree to come, had to seek this cursed adventure. It probably served him just right that in the end, his lack of self-preservation sentenced him to death.

It was not long before the chain slipped from his fingers completely, leaving deep welts on his already damaged hands. Not that it would matter much anymore. Those wounds would never heal. Nor would he feel their pain for much longer.

He felt himself reach the end of the chain, scrambling to hold on for just a moment longer. A desperate attempt to delay the inevitable. Without avail.

One moment he was holding on, still dangling on the side of the mountain. And then he was falling.

Nothing but air and blinding whiteness around him as he followed the call of the abyss.

And the dream of golden eyes and strong arms catching him in a warm embrace.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to clarify again, that this is not a suicide fic. it is meant as a tragic accident angst story, just like an alternate version where Jaskier did not manage it off the mountain.  
> basically ever since I saw how Jaskier slipped and almost fell during this ascend in the episode I couldn't stop thinking about an angsty ending where he tried to get down on his own and being so lost and overwhelmed with his feelings, and the wood being old and cracked, he just slipped and fell. that and an edit I made a few months ago inspired this short tragedy.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it despite the angst and I promise, there will be happier fics coming soon! and as always I'd be more than delighted should you decide to toss some kudos/comments to your writer ;D


End file.
